


Why would anyone?

by melitta4ever



Series: Kinktober 2018 [20]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dubious Consent, Homophobic Language, Hurt No Comfort, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Urophagia, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 22:35:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16355543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melitta4ever/pseuds/melitta4ever
Summary: The new owner of Gas-N-Sip offers Steve, aka Castiel, extra money for extra duties. Castiel accepts because he is desperate.For Kinktober 2018, Day 20 : UrophagiaFor the spnkink-meme prompt: Cas/OMC, desperation, watersports, h/c





	Why would anyone?

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt: https://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/140805.html?thread=45656325#t45656325
> 
>  
> 
> Like Cas told Dean, he literally had nothing. The pay from his job at the gas station is barely enough to survive.   
> So when the new boss there starts paying Cas a cash bonus, Cas is too grateful to consider the extra duties he might have to perform.   
> Like kneeling in front of the man until he says Cas can leave. Like standing still while he’s groped and kissed and licked.   
> Or when he’s forced to drink enough water to make him desperate to go but is then tied down and made to hold it.   
> Sometimes his boss leaves him like that. Sometimes he’ll press on Cas’s bladder to make it more difficult or use his fingers or a dildo in Cas’s ass to make him come   
> And once he even fits Cas with a container to catch every drop of urine and warns Cas if he relieves himself without permission, he’ll make Cas drink every drop.   
> Which he does while Cas struggles helplessly, nearly choking.   
> Dean doesn’t know any of this. Cas is adamant he won’t.   
> But I’d love for Sam to find out and take revenge on Cas’s behalf.
> 
> I couldn't hit all the points, but hopefully it's satisfactory anon. And sorry for there is no Sam in shining armor in this story.

 

The chime on the door rang much like a sound effect from a horror movie; shrill and continuous. Ray kept expecting the damned store to be covered with blood every time he heard the ear piercing sound. Maybe he'd end up doing just that. He wouldn't too surprised if that happened, really. If someone had told Ray that he'd end up owning a gas station five years ago, he'd have told them to go fuck themselves but in a lot more colorful language. He'd have said that there was no fucking way Rambo Ray would sit still in a shithole and collect dust.

It would have never happened too if it wasn't for the damned accident that left Ray bound to a fucking wheelchair. Everyone kept telling him how lucky he was that he survived against all the odds. He simply wasn't.

His buddies stop showing up after it was certain that Ray couldn't walk, let alone ride a bike. Ray didn't blame them really. What would a cripple do in a bike club? 

Now, Ray was a 300lb old-biker with an attitude that people only allowed because they pitied him. Yes, pitied. The days that grown men pissing themselves with an angry look from Ray was over. No one was afraid of him anymore. No one…. Except…

“Steve!”

“Yes, sir,” Steve answered, voice nervous as his usual. Ray still couldn't believe how timid the fucker was.

“Clean the bathrooms,” he ordered, then watched that expressive face going through denial, resistance and acceptance in a short second, sprinkled with barely visible anger.

“I've cleaned them two hours ago,” he whined. A grown ass man. Whined.

“Apparently you didn't do a good enough job. I can smell the shit all the way from here.”

Ray waited for Steve to call his bullshit. He didn't.  _ Fucking pussy. _

“I'll get to them right away.”

“Don't take your brake in there,” Ray warned him, “I'll know if you do.”

“Please, sir,” begged Steve; legs squeezed tight. “I really need to go.”

“You held four more hours yesterday. You shouldn't be even uncomfortable now.”

“But—” he started but Ray cut his sniveling short.

“Are you trying to wait until a customer shows up, Steve? Go!”

“Yes, sir.” He left, without mentioning how much more soda Ray had forced him to drink today compared to yesterday. 

He must be really uncomfortable. Ray couldn't help but smile thinking about how poor Steve's bladder would act being in a bathroom right now. Human body was like that, you'd see the toilet and all your muscles would want to just..let..go. Ray almost wished Steve to come back with ruined pants.

He didn't. But sweat was dripping over the side of his face; little droplets sat precariously above his upper lip. Obviously, it hadn't been an easy task.  _ Good _ .

Ray's viewing pleasure got cut in half with that damned door chime again. Another fucking customer. At least they asked for large sodas. It was a different pleasure to watch Steve doing a subdued potty dance while filling buckets of blue, foaming liquid. 

“Turn over the closed sign,” ordered Ray after those fuckers had left; he just couldn't wait any longer. “Meet me in the back room.”

  
  


Steve entered the room slowly; all jittery, like a long-tailed cat entering a rocking-chair showroom. Blue of his eyes were shining bright with unshed tears. And he obviously had been biting those meaty, chapped lips.

“You'll get your 50 bucks, don't worry,” assured Ray while undoing his belt. “Just help me find an answer to a question.”

“Of course,” Steve said, eyes focused on Ray's hands.

“Do you think a person can open up his asshole while holding the pee in?”

“No!” was either Steve's answer to the question or his response to what really was coming; it didn't matter either way 

“You've no faith,” Ray dismissed him. “I'll bet you 20 bucks that it's possible,” he said, taking his already hard dick out. He had fucked Steve before, yes, but this… ohhh, he couldn't wait for this one. “Come're.”

“Sir… I really need to use the toilet,” Steve whimpered, “Please?”

“That's the idea, silly,” Ray laughed, beckoning him closer. “If you weren't  _ really _ have to go, then we couldn't test it, could we?”

Steve stepped closer, keeping his feet together like one of the Japanese girls in the old movies. He stood right in front of Ray's chair, but his hands kept hanging without a move. 

That was always the case with Steve. He simply couldn't manage to undress by himself in front of Ray. Ray started to think that the fag was actually enjoying everything that's been done to him. He was probably living a gay fantasy in this store. Why else would anyone do anything like that for a fucking twenty bucks? He probably was going home at nights, and jacking off with a fist in his slutty ass, thinking of everything Ray had done to him during the day. 

_ Definitely _ .

Ray took care of his pants, making sure they both were naked below waist; just in case.

“I'm using quality shit,” he informed Steve while squirting a gallop of lube into his palm. “So it shouldn't hurt.” Much. Maybe. Whatever. 

He pulled Steve on top, the only position left available for Ray in this cursed wheelchair. Forever.

“Oh, you're keeping yourself too tight,” he complained when his dick faced with a locked entrance.

“I can't—”

“Nonsense. Try to push out a little. You know how to do it.”

Steve pinched his dick in an obvious attempt to control himself and the furled asshole opened up, ever so slightly. Ray didn't lose a second and rammed his dick in; pushing in relentlessly.

It was tight, tighter than Ray had imagined, tighter than comfortable even; but he was in and Steve's legs were already shaking.

“Did I...aaah… I think…”

“Not yet. Let me fuck you a little.” Ray drove his cock all the way in, probably hitting directly at Steve's swollen bladder. “Try to open up a little more. Then you'll earn the money, pretty boy. And don't forget; if you piss on my floor, you'll lick it clean.”

Ray didn't like touching Steve while fucking him; he wasn't no fag. But he made an exception today. He placed his palm right above Steve's limp pickle, where he guessed the brimfull bladder was. And he could fucking feel it. Tight like a drum inside the soft belly.

“Please, sir,” begged Steve, but didn't do shit to stop him. 

“To help you fuck better.” Ray dismissed the request. “You were doing a lousy fucking job.”

He pressed his hand, squeezed that overfull bladder between his palm and dick. 

Steve moaned pitifully. Maybe he enjoyed that too. 

_ Pig _ . 

He might even enjoy pissing himself. Must be. Why else wouldn't he just fucking get up, give Ray the finger, leave? Steve loved this, Ray was certain of it. It actually was Steve who was using Ray and get paid for that too. 

Ray didn't like being used. He liked being deceived even less.

“Fuck yourself on my dick, you fucking fag!” He roared, “Earn your fucking money.”

Steve, of course, did. 

“You like my cock, don't you? Love some man meat in your whore ass.” He kneaded Steve's belly, targeting the hard pouch residing in there. “Fucking whore!” Steve kept milking his cock regardless; almost too tight, but still perfect. “You fucking crave for my salami, don't you? You disgusting fucking pig! I'm gonna bring my friends and you'll take their cocks too. You'll blow them, fuck them, then blow them fucking again.” 

He came into Steve's asshole, painting it all white. Because the stupid whore had never even asked for a condom, always gave it away bare.

“Can I go to bathroom, now?” squeaked Steve, trembling on Ray's lap.

“Not before cleaning my cock; you know the rules.”

Steve didn't argue, probably thinking that it would be quicker to comply. 

He took Ray's dirty dong in his mouth, licking and sucking like a Hoover.

“Hold it in,” Ray asked, giddy with the excitement of what came to his mind. “I really have to go.”

Steve's blue eyes raised to Ray's, maybe first time there was something more than submission in them. Maybe the fag had found his backbone?

“Swallow it all, I'll let it out slow,” Ray added and Steve closed his eyes, accepting his fate. 

_ A true fuck pig _ .

Ray let go a little stream and relished the feeling of Steve gulping and swallowing around his dick. His right foot found the guy's bladder and pressed, his toes digging in the flesh.

“Ohhh!” he let out a satisfied sigh, emptying himself completely. “I really needed to go.”

Steve drank until the last drop, licking Ray's cock clean and shiny.

“Can I, please, go now?” he asked, then added hurriedly, “Sir.”

“Here.” Ray gestured at his pants, “Hand me my wallet. I'll pay your money first.” He took out seventy five, “Five is the tip. For swallowing everything.”

  
  
  



End file.
